


This is Gospel ( for the fallen ones )

by wearealltalesintheend



Series: it's a very, very mad world ( the dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had ) [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Family, Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 05:18:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4991665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearealltalesintheend/pseuds/wearealltalesintheend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life is made out of moments, like pieces of a puzzle coming together. Viserys knows this. He knows his life is full of sometimes, all leading to this moment. On the top of the stairs he thinks he can see the big picture.</p><p>.<br/>.<br/>.</p><p>Viserys is eighteen now and he doesn't cry anymore. He is eighteen and he is full of anger and hate. He is young and he is invincible. He is on the top of the stairs and he is king of the world. ( he doesn't fear the coin anymore either. He believes he makes his own future. He is not wrong, but he is not sane either. )</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is Gospel ( for the fallen ones )

**Author's Note:**

> If you like, don't forget to drop a review. I might make one shot of Dany's or some other character's PoV later on, I'm not sure yet, tell me what you think. Also it's been a bit of a long time since I read the books, so please let me know if there's any incoherency or mistakes so I can fix it asap.
> 
> Enjoy,

**.**

**.**

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.

**.**

Sometimes Viserys wonders what would happen if he gave up on the Iron Throne. If he just stopped trying to be a king, to be  _the_ King.

Sometimes Viserys wonders if he  _should_ be a king. Dressed with nothing more than rags and hunger clawing at his stomach he doesn't  _feel_ much like a king.

They call him the Beggar King.

He hates it.

The laughter and mockery burning and tearing at his soul.

Sometimes Viserys wonders if there will be any of it left by the time he reclaims his birthright.

He feels as if a piece of him dies everytime he pleads and begs for food and every night he has to lie in the ground curled near a fire. It is humiliating and  _wrong._ He is Viserys Targaryen, blood of the dragon and rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms, his entire situation is  _wrong_ and  _unfair_

(  _His blood boil with white raw rage but all he sees is red )_

.

.

.

Sometime Viserys thinks his temper is going to be the death of him. He knows he shouldn't have let the other, bigger, boys get under his skin. He knows he should have turned a deaf ear and looked away, but he couldn't help it. The second he heard them mocking his father,  _his family,_ he lost it. He didn't remember walking to them, he didn't remember shoving one of them and he didn't remember yelling at them, but he knows it happened at some point, since next thing he knows he is being beaten into a bloody pulp in some alley.

(  _Afterwards, when they have to sleep in that same putrid alley because he cannot move without a crippling pain racking his body, he thinks about his family words._

_Fire and blood._

_He thinks he paid enough of the blood and wonders,_ _fears,_ _when the fire is coming._

_He also wonders what is more damaged, his scrawny body or his pride. )_

_._

_._

_._

Sometimes Viserys cries. Only in the dead of the night, when he is sure Dany is sleeping and no one is around. He cries for the father he never really had, for the brother he barely knew, for the mother he saw wither and die, for Sir Willem Darry who helped them when everyone else turned their backs, for his childhood cut short, for his sister who was never to meet their parents, for the crown they had to sell, for their current situation. He cries for nothing and everything. He cries because he is just a boy of one and ten, just a child, and he shouldn't have to take care alone of a three year old kid.

And hates himself for that.

He hates the tears and the emotions behind them. He hates that he is afraid of being captured by the Usurper, afraid that one day he might wake up and his baby sister is not there anymore, captured and killed, afraid of what will become of them, afraid of starving to death or worse. He should not feel fear, he is a king.

(  _But what he is afraid the most is the coin. The coin that the gods flip everytime a Targaryen is born. Greatness or Madness. He fears what will become of him. He fears that he can't change his destiny. The gods have already decided for him. Whatever will be, will be. He has no choice in it. It is in his blood. )_

He promises himself he will not cower or fear any one any more. (  _it is a different night, a night that is yet to be, and both he and his sister are different people, when he breaks this promises and he realizes that he can't find it in himself to be surprised because, honestly, he has always been awful at keeping promises. )_

.

.

.

Sometimes Viserys hates his sister. He hates Dany because she killed their mother. He looks at her and all he can see is his mother dying in Dragon Stone. So he hates Dany. He knows it is not right and there must be something wrong with him because no one is supposed to hate their own sister. He tries not to think about what it means.  _( deep down Viserys knows what it means. It means the coin was flipped and the gods have spoken. It means he is sick. It means he is his father's son_   _)_

He tries not to think about it because you see, Viserys hates Dany, but only sometimes.

.

.

.

Sometimes Viserys laughs. It is occuring less and less, but sometimes he laughs. Not the carefree, childish happy laughter that used to fill his room in King's Landing, no, now when he laughs it is more of a chuckle or a snort, coming from deep inside him, surprising even himself. It happens less and less often, but sometimes he laughs. Viserys laughs, a breathless sound because they  _are_ breathless, after they ran from some enraged shop owner through the streets of one of the Free Cities and knowing that they will not pass the night hungry. He laughs after his sister asks if she can have pink hair too, just like that woman from the fair. He laughs as he sees Dany giggling at his now blue hair. He thinks he still laughs to see if he still knows how, he is afraid he is going to forget one day.  _( it is not that he will forget, it is just that it is going to be replaced by a hollow, bitter sound that he rather not hear )_

.

.

.

Sometimes Viserys dreams. He dreams of great castles and golden crowns. Of cheering crowds and smiling in the balcony. Of a table full of food and sweet wine. He dreams of being king, _The King._  He dreams of returning home and defeating the Usurper. He dreams of not feeling pain or cold. Of not having to worry if there is going to be a next meal. Of not sleeping in the streets. Of not having to beg. He dreams of fine clothes and shining jewelry.  _( sometimes he dreams of fire and blood and death, but he tries not to think about that either. There is a lot he tries not to think about. )_

But sometimes he dreams of memories. Of his mother's soft touch. Of his father's rare smiles. Of running through gardens and the breeze caressing his hair. He dreams of his brother's kind, sad eyes. It makes his heart clench and twist and  _hurt_ but he promises he will not forget.  _( years come and go and this is another promise he will break, he is sixteen when Dany asks what their brother looked like. He tells her to shut up if she doesn't want to wake the dragon. The truth is he cannot remember more than silver hair and violet eyes. )_

_._

_._

_._

Sometimes he thinks of his father. He used to hate thinking about his father when he was younger. He heard people whispering about the Mad King, about people being burned alive, about the rebellion and about a King's Guard breaking his oath. Everytime he thought of his father all he could come up with was whispers and angered scowls and harsh words.

He used to hate thinking of his father, but as he grew up, it happened more and more often. Now he is almost eighteen and he thinks of his father almost everyday. Now the picture of his father whispers of fire and blood. Of reclaiming his birthright. Of revenge. It whispers of taking what is rightfully his, no matter the cost. It whispers of killing the Usurper and sitting on the Iron Throne.

.

.

.

Now he is eighteen and he climbs the steps of the Magíster's house with his sister by his side. He knows she is pretty and he has a plan on his mind. Now he sees the world in shades of red. He will sell his sister like he sold his mother's crown.  _( he had promised to take care of her but really, at this point he lost count of how many promises he had broken. He knows he should fear the wrath of the Seven gods but he doesn't believe much in gods, old or new or red. He prayed for every one of them but none answered. )_

He is eighteen now and he climbs the steps of the Magíster's house with his sister by his side. He knows his future is laying beyond those doors. He sees the world in fire and blood. He sees a throne made of a thousand swords. He sees a golden crown.  _( he doesn't know but he is right, there will be a crown made of gold and there is going to be blood and fire if he goes through those doors. He prayed for all the gods but he forgot the only one that mattered.)_

_( All men must die )_

Viserys is eighteen now and he doesn't cry anymore. He is eighteen and he is full of anger and hate. He is young and he is invincible. He is on the top of the stairs and he is king of the world.  _( he doesn't fear the coin anymore either. He believes he makes his own future. He is not wrong, but he is not sane either. )_

_._

_._

_._

Viserys is eighteen when he knocks on Illyrio's door.

_( the coin hits the ground )_


End file.
